


Rivals

by writeasoph



Series: Cute Septiplier Stories [9]
Category: Septicplier, Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Bank Robbery, Break Up, Flashbacks, Love, M/M, Markiplier - Freeform, Septiplier - Freeform, back together, idek, jacksepticeye - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:52:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6424876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeasoph/pseuds/writeasoph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Mark are both head of two gang groups and catch each other trying to steal the same gold. </p><p>However, a past relationship haunts them both and knowing exactly how another person is going to act can be used as an advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this with TypicalCrazyFangirl off DeviantArt. The original work is there too on my account of the same name :)

"Fancy seeing you here Fischbach. You know, I never really thought we would meet again face to face like this. Shame it's right before the unfortunate event of your death." The smooth Irish accent swept through the previously silent room. 

Hearing that, the whole of Mark's team turned and realised how much trouble they were in. The whole room had filled with Mcloughlin's men, each one holding a weapon and all the exits covered. Cool but panicking underneath, Mark's men all reloaded and returned to aim at the enemy's forces. Mark simply stood up and turned his back to a trolley of gold bars that he had been counting.

"Mcloughlin, how nice of you to drop by. You know, we really are kind of busy at the moment. I suppose if you just left us alone you might get paid for sparing us any trouble."

Jack laughed at the ridiculous bribe and left his position of leaning against the wall to take a few steps forward.

"But why would I pass an occasion such as this where I obviously have the upper hand? I'd be stupid to pass such an opportunity," he said, wildly outstretching his arms with a smug grin upon his face.

"Maybe because you know that if you do, it could be the end of this fight between you and me."

At those words, Jack paled. He knew exactly what Mark meant. That if Jack left right now, the fighting would stop and both of them could have peace, rather than the non-stop feud that was ending dozens of lives every week. In fact, Jack had lost Felix, his right-hand man, just yesterday, the pain still strong in his heart. In an instant, he felt his entire confidence crumble, the thunder disappearing from himself. Only Mark could do that to him.  
He felt vulnerable.

\-- The door opened and Mark threw himself inside the house, sinking against the door. His heart was pumping and all he needed right now was probably a good dose of his boyfriend. 

"Jack!" He called into the apartment. 

He heard thumping as jack came running from the back of the house. Almost immediately he was thrown back a few steps as the small male practically tackled him. 

"You didn't call at 12, I got worried." The words were muffled as the irishman had his face in Mark's shirt. 

"Shit Jack, I'm so sorry. There was a big heist tonight and.." He was cut off as the smaller man pressed his lips against Marks, essentially cutting him off. 

"It's ok, but if I have to get this panicked again, I'll cut yer balls off."

The laughter that erupted from the both of them was enough to calm Mark's racing heart. --

The feeling of weakness used to be an absolute for Jack, had always been with him. But not with Mark. Mark would always save him, be there for him to fall back on. Then, shit had gone down, the pair separated by force. Now, Jack was on his own and he was determined to stay that way.  
Now Jack had to be strong for himself.

He quickly shook off any residual weakness left on his face, he couldn't look like that in front of his men. Mark always had his way with words, and could use his skill on anyone he chose.

"What if I don't want it to? Both of us are much more successful now than we ever were. I wouldn't trade this for anything. Not even that."

Mark made no attempt to hide his confusion, surely that was why they were still fighting? Nothing Jack had said made sense to him.

"Anyway, I haven't got all day Fischface. Hand over the gold or your lieutenant gets it." The green-haired man said, raising his pistol.

Next to him, Bob stood still. His life was being threatened by someone whom he had been close friends with once. Sure, they had been fighting for a year now but it still wasn't cool. Mark decided to handle the situation by stepping in front of Bob, shielding him with his body.

"I don't think you're going to do that Jack."  
Shivers went down Jack's spine hearing Mark say his nickname. Ever since their separation it had always been Mcloughlin and Fischbach, never Jack and Mark.

\-- Jack rubbed his eyes as he padded through the apartment, already fixing the two cups of coffee for the morning. He quickly checked his watch and waited, taking a few sips from his mug. Not 5 minutes had passed before the door of the apartment opened, and Jack smiled, picking up the second mug to hand to his boyfriend. He wasn't prepared to face a bloodstained Mark smiling graciously at him. The mug dropped to the floor and Jack rushed over, immediately hooking Marks arm around his shoulder, practically dragging him to the couch.

"What the fuck happened!" Jack yelled, as he sprinted to the bathroom to grab the med kit they had stashed.

"I found out that I need more guys watching my back. That's what happened."

Jack ran back into the living room and practically ripped off Mark’s shirt, his eyes widening when he saw the bullet wound.

“Fuck, Mark.” He breathed, staring his boyfriend in the eyes. “You got shot?”

“Just get me some tweezers, I got this.” He cupped Jack's face gently, smiling his goofy smile. “I am not gonna die, not today anyway.”

“I’m coming with you next time. You taught me how to shoot, I’ll get your back next-”

“NO!” Mark gripped Jack’s arm tightly, pulling him close. “You can't come with me, that’d put you in danger and I can’t… I can't lose you.”--

It was a deadlock. Jack couldn't attack without hurting Mark or getting attacked back. Mark couldn't attack without Jack shooting Bob or himself or his whole team. Yet, someone had to make a move.

"I know you think that you have the upper hand because you can accept what we used to be, but that can't happen again. It's way too dangerous and they would be bound to find out. So Mark, give us the gold."

"You'd have to kill me."

At that, Jack felt the rage rising in him, the anger almost uncontrollable. Swearing under his breath he lowered his gun and started to make his way across the room to Mark and Bob. At the sound of the guns peaking and aiming at Jack as he made his way, Mark lifted his hand as a signal not to shoot. Finally being inches in front of Mark, Jack put the tip of the barrel to Mark's forehead.

\-- Mark? What’s wrong?” Jack asked, as his boyfriend dragged him through the house.

“I need you to get in the closet, and stay there.” He was almost thrown into their bedroom before he dug his heels into the ground and turned to look at the man he loved.

“What. Is. Going. On.” Jack pressed, crossing his arms. 

Mark simply picked up the Irishman bridal style and dropped him carefully in the closet. “Stay. Here.” He ran a hand through his hair and froze when he heard a stern knock at the door. “Please, just stay here. Be quiet.” He closed the door, leaving Jack in darkness.

“Fishbach! How nice...to see you.” Jack heard an unfamiliar voice come from the entrance.

“What do you want, Leroy.” Mark's voice was dark, and threatening. Jack had never heard Mark sound like this before.

“First things first, is anyone here?” There was a faint clicking noise and Jack stiffened, recognizing it as a gun safety being turned off.

“I live alone. You think I'm stupid enough to drag someone into this?”

“I think you’re stupid, but I didn't know how stupid. Seems you're smarter than most of my colleagues.”

“...Thank you.” 

The sound of footsteps radiated throughout the house. “You mentioned needing more men, and you asked me here because you want to borrow some of mine?”

“Just until I get more! I just need some extra backup, I thought you could do me a favour?”

“A favour? I don't do...favours.”

More footsteps, these ones closer to the bedroom. Jack pulled his legs in tighter.

“Why are you so nervous? Got something to hide?”

“No, it's just my bedroom.”

“Ah, where the dirty deeds have taken place?” There was a chuckle from the stranger.

“Not recently.”

The door of the bedroom swung open, and Jack flinched. 

“We don’t really have to do this here. We could just go back to the living room.” Mark’s voice was shaking. 

“You know, I’ve always admired your sense of style. Where do you get your flannels?” The voice was close, too close to the closet. 

“You really don't have to-”

The closet door swung open and Jack looked up to see a man staring down at him with a smug grin. Suddenly a gun was cocked in his face.

“Never took you to be a fag, Fischbach.” 

Jack trembled, his eyes wide. 

A gunshot rang out.

Mark stood, his arm holding a smoking gun where Leroy’s head had been, eyes still steeled in determination. 

“You’re safe, Jack.”--

He had no idea what he was doing, knowing he didn't have it in him to kill his ex-lover. He didn't know what was restraining him really, what was stopping him from pulling his index finger an inch. Jack felt the pressure however, his breaths deepening.

"Why are we still doing this Jack? After all this time. They would be out of the city by now. We could do this. I would take the risk, for you," Mark whispered, trying to get Jack to look at him as he stared down at the ground, holding the gun firm.

"That night got out of hand, didn't it? I said some things that I shouldn't have. So did you." Mark mumbled.

As Mark calmly tried to talk to Jack, Bob had been slowly moving away from Mark in order to get better cover than a human shield. The job description was to protect Mark, not have him protect you. Unfortunately, Jack looked up at the wrong moment and in seeing Bob moving, removed the gun from Mark's head and sent a bullet straight through his skull before returning the gun to Mark.

"Felix died yesterday. See that as payback." Jack spat at him, pulling his fingers through his acid green hair.

Mark was shocked. He hadn't even felt Bob move away from him before seeing one of his best friends get shot in the face. He didn't look as he heard the body crash to the ground.

"You fucker. God fucking dammit Mcloughlin!" Mark breathed, pressing his head forwards against the gun.

"He didn't do anything wrong! I am trying to make a fucking truce and that is what you do? I must be insane to still love you."

Jack held his breath at that. Mark still loved him. But the question was: Did Jack?

"Mark, please just surrender. Just give us the gold. I'll stay out of your way. Don't remind me of that night. I really don't feel like killing you right now." Jack explained, gesturing desperately with his free hand.

"Yes but if I surrender now, not only am I losing the gold I'll be losing you too,"

“You lost me a long time ago.”

“I’m not going to lose you right after I found you again. Right after I got you to listen for once.”

“You were always stubborn, weren’t you?”

\-- “...Jack?”

“Mhm?”

“I think...I think we should break up.”

“What?! Mark, what made you think that? What did I do?”

“God no! It’s not you.”

“If you give me the stereotypical ‘it's not me it's you speech’ I'll kill you.”

“This is serious Jack! You almost died! Because of me!”

“The was one time! You saved me anyway.”

“The more enemies I get, the more dangerous it is for you. You can’t handle this, Babe-”

“Don’t you ‘Babe’ me.”

“Please Jack. I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt.”

“Emotionally or physically? Because the only one hurting me right now is you!”

“Jack! No don’t throw the- Jack! C’mon please not the- dammit.”

“You don’t want me broken like this?! Let me join the gang! I can shoot a gun perfectly fine-”

“NO! I’ve told you a million times, you are NOT joining the group! Why can't you just make this easier- SHIT!”

“EASIER?! YOU WANT ME TO MAKE THIS BREAK UP EASIER?! IS THIS NOT FUCKING CONVENIENT ENOUGH FOR YOU?! TOO BAD YOU CAN'T JUST SHOOT ME LIKE YOU DO WITH ALL YOUR OTHER PROBLEMS!”

“STOP FUCKING THROWING THINGS YOU BASTARD!”

“HOW ABOUT THIS THEN YOU. FUCKING. ASSHOLE!”

“OW! SHIT, JACK CALM THE FUCK DO- FUCK!”

“GET OUT! GET OUT YOU INSENSITIVE PRICK! JUST FUCK OFF!”

“Jack, please-”

“GET OUT!”

*SLAM*--

“It was something you loved once.”

“Who said I don’t still?”

Jack instantly regretted saying that. Once those words fell out of his mouth not only did Mark realise Jack still loved him but so did Jack.

“You’re such a doof,” Mark said, laughing as if there wasn’t a gun to his forehead with the safety off.

Jack remembered that nickname fondly. Only Mark had ever called him that. It brought back too many memories of all the happy times he had with him.

Jack simply rolled his eyes before chucking his gun away to the floor and kissing Mark for the first time in a year. God, Jack had missed this. The passion turned to power in a kiss, speaking louder than words ever could.

Once Mark got over the initial shock of events, he kissed back whilst running his hands up and down Jack’s sides, almost making Jack moan into his mouth at the contact.

It lasted a few seconds before Jack realised that 1) they were still trying to rob some gold and 2) they had an audience. He pulled away to Mark's disappointment.

"We still have some stealing to do, my dear,"

"Ah, yes. My men could get on with that if they weren't getting aimed at."

"Sorry," Jack said shrugging, "Stand down," he said dismissively towards his men.

"We've got a lot of work to do,"


	2. Chased

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Jack are chased in the decoy truck.

"A decoy truck? Are you mad, you're meant to split the gold into 2 in case you lose a van!"

The truck hurtled down the street, Mark at the wheel weaving through the oncoming traffic. 

"Well, this is my method and we can't exactly do anything else right now. All we have got to do is hope they follow us rather than Ken- shit!" Jack shouted.

Luckily for Jack, the police had followed Mark and Jack's van. Unluckily, this also meant they were getting fired at. Gunshots echoed from the back of the van and made both of them men flinch each time. The truck was heavy duty but only to some extent. Too much fire would easily destroy the little safety they had.

Spoke too soon. One of the windows of the back door blew out, shattering glass all over the floor. 

"Fuck!" Mark screamed, grabbing Jack by his collar and plopping him roughly in the drivers seat.

"Mark what the hell! You know I'm not good at dri-"

"Shut up and keep us from dying!" Mark growled, shakily making his way over to the broken window. 

Jack turned back around and screeched, swerving to avoid a minivan. He heard a loud thump and a groan.

"I said keep us from dying!" The weak yell came from behind Jack's seat. 

"Sorry!" 

Mark pulled himself up and inspected the window, holding the shelves on either side of the van for security. If he went back to drive, the window left Jack's head in full view of the cops behind them. 

"Jack! Do you have anything I could use to patch this?" Mark yelled, turning to check on the man behind the wheel.

"I got tarp and wood boards but those won't hold bullets for a second so I don't kn- WAIT!"

"What is it?" Mark held the side of the van, to keep himself from bouncing.

"I need you to lift up my shirt and grab my Kevlar."

"What?!"

"Get over here, pull up my shirt, and rip my Kevlar off. It's bullet resistant, it'll hold." Jack said, his eyes not leaving the road. 

"You wear Kevlar?"

"You don't?"

"Well... No."

"Unbelievable! I've had to patch you up probably a million times and you still don't wear at least SOMETHING bulletproof?"

"It wasn't really a problem. I always had you to patch me up. I got used to having you."

The van went silent for a few moments with only the rumble of the trembling van before Mark made his way up towards the seats and kneeled by Jack, making sure to not fall over. He carefully lifted Jack's shirt, as though he had done it a million times, and ran his hands up Jack's back, trying to find the clasp. The shorter man had to put on the best poker face he knew, hiding both the blush that threatened his cheeks and the giggles. Mark was intentionally fumbling, grazing the sensitive spots he knew all too well. Mark finally unclasped the Kevlar and bunched it, standing by bracing himself with a hand on Jack's shoulder. 

Gunfire broke the silence.

"Fuck!" Mark almost tripped over the seat in his flurry to get back to the window.

"While you were busy with that striptease or whatever the fuck you were doing, I was trying not to let us die!" Jack laughed, focusing once more on the road. 

Mark snickered before holding the Kevlar up to the window, duct taping it to hold it in place. Bullets patterned against the Kevlar, like how rain patters against a car window, but increasingly more violent. Mark threw down the tape and went back to the front of the van, yanking Jack out of the driver seat and into the passenger seat, so that he could slide gracefully into the driver seat. He took hold of the wheel, and checked the rear view, once again thrown into a panic. 

"Why are we even driving the decoy truck for fuck's sake? This doesn't make sense, you put your most disposable man in the decoy truck so them getting caught would be both a distraction and have the least loss! We're gonna get stuck in prison because of you!" Mark shouted over the sound of gunfire.

Jack paid little attention to Mark's criticism but one word from the sentence made his eyes light up.

"Stuck!" Jack said, clicking his fingers. 

Patting down his pants he reached down into one on his pockets to find a bomb. A sticky bomb.

"Now, how to use it," he muttered to himself. 

Opening the window would probably just end up being an invitation for bullets. He climbed into the back of the van and threw open one of the doors, using the other as cover. Bullets hailed past him through where the other door had been. They left rupture holes in the interior and on the back of the passenger seat, startling the driver AKA Mark.

"Jack, what the fuck?! I JUST fixed that! You're going to get us both killed even faster!"

"I fucking know what I'm doing," Jack said, brushing him off. 

Cheekily, Jack took a peek to see there were 3 cop cars hot on their tail, weaving through traffic almost as fast as the van. In spotting him and therefore, a target to shoot at, another hail of bullets ravaged the van. Practically squealing, Jack scrambled away from the door.

"Jack?!" Mark asked, frightened his...he didn't know what they were right now, had been shot.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I was just an idiot and nearly fell out onto the fuckin' road." Jack said. 

Mark just shook his head and continued to concentrate on driving.

Holding the detonator and door in one hand and the bomb in another, he turned to Mark. "How far are we from an exit?" 

"I don't know, there's one coming up now."

"Try and make it look like you're staying on the highway and when I say go turn for the exit. Don't make a mess."

"What are you doing?" Mark exclaimed.

"Just trust me, please?" Jack said, looking at Mark with hope. 

Without him, Jack's plan would completely go to shit. He needed him. As Mark looked into his blue eyes he saw Jack really meant what he said. In that unpredictable moment, Jack only asked for one thing: trust. Mark blinked and sighed, hoping he wouldn't regret what he about to do. All he did was look at Jack and nod. 

I trust you.

Jack turned back and simply said, "Tell me when the exit's near."

After a few seconds of silence and a lot more gunfire, "Coming up now, 10 seconds."

Counting to 6, Jack threw the bomb. It landed on 8. Exploded on 9. 

"GO!" The Irish scream almost immediately set off what looked like, a chain reaction. The van swerved so quickly and so harshly to the right that it almost flipped. The movement sent Jack flying into the side of the truck, slamming him against the metal. "Fuck!"

The front police car that had been Jack's target exploded, destroying half of the second car along with it. The debris from the first car smashed part of the last car, sending it squealing as it tried to maneuver the wreck. The back half of the second car slid on it side, flipping multiple times before slamming down on the roof of the third car. The wreck left the road blocked off, and the burning fire that had started in the debris of the first car spread to the others, the smoke obstructing the view of which path Mark and Jack took. 

Jack pulled himself off the floor and groaned, using the back of Mark's and his seat to pull himself into a standing position. He pulled himself forward and fell into his seat, feeling the bullets still trapped inside the fabric from earlier gunfire. He smiled at what he could see behind him, at his handiwork.

"What was that about getting us killed?" He leaned his head towards Mark, looking at him smugly.

"Shut up. That sooo could have gone southwards." Mark said before, taking a hand off the wheel to push Jack's shoulder away.

"Yeah, yeah."

"There's a car swap nearby. We can ditch this one."

"Nice." Jack muttered, barely loud enough to hear. 

By reflex, his hand reached to his side and pulled it away to see what he didn't want. Blood. In moving so quickly and peeking at the wrong time, a bullet had grazed his side. The wound was red, and the dark colour of the fabric made it hard to see how much was there. He lifted his shirt up and inspected the injury. The skin around it was raw, and once he touched it, it felt like all but one layer of skin was gone. The wound itself was ugly as well, with blood visibly being pumped from the hole. Apparently, getting slammed into the wall had not helped the wound either, and Jack knew once all the adrenaline had worn off, he would be feeling it all.

"Jack?" The deep voice threw him out of his own thoughts and he dropped his shirt.

"Yeah?"

"I asked if you've used this garage before? There's a lot of fuel here."

Jack answered briefly, realising he hadn't exactly been paying attention. He didn't really want Mark to know he had been hurt. He knew Mark would dissolve into his old over worried personality and try to play nurse. Luckily, Jack already had one. As Mark began to drench the old truck in fuel, Jack reluctantly reached for his phone.

"Ken?"

"Hey, boss. Look, everything's good round here, the gold is all safe. We just don't really know what to do. Should Mark's men go back or are we just one big unit now?"

"Thank fuck about the gold. On the Mark front...I don't really know. We haven't had time to talk about it, being decoys and all. We'll figure it out later. Look, could you ring Nurse for me? You know how she is if she finds out there's an injury she didn't treat."

"What? Who got hurt? What happened?"

"Calm your shit Ken, everything's good I just got grazed that's all. We'll be there in 10, just make sure she's there. I'll tell you what happened later."

"Fine boss. She'll be there." 

Jack could tell Ken wasn't happy about the whole Mark situation. Ken was one of the few people who knew the whole story behind what had happened and he had a very strong opinion about it. Ken had always been loyal, which was why Jack had made him second in command. Jack finally glanced up at the trade car they were using and scowled.

"A fucking Prius, seriously?"

"Of course. No one does shit in a Prius." Mark said, practically patting the vehicle like it was his baby.

As they climbed in, Mark felt pleased to be spending time with Jack again. Jack, on the other hand, was just glad that Mark was failing to see the small puddle of blood building up next to him and silently hoped he wouldn't pass out before they got home.


	3. Betrayl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark is told something Jack really didn't want him to know.

After a few wrong turns due to Jack's misleading directions, the pair finally made it to Jack's main base. From the outside, it looked just like an old barnyard with two buildings: a barn and a cottage. The barn itself was stereotypically red, with the paint a dark, faded colour and chipping. At the point of its decay, there was more paint that had chipped off then there was left on the barn. The doors were solidly built, however, and although it was hard to tell, they were impeccably maintained. The farmhouse was smaller, and the white paint on its exterior was dirty from weathering. Ushering his partner in, Jack let Mark enter first whilst Jack leant on the doorway afterwards.

"Ken!" Jack shouted, wondering why his deputy hadn't met him as usual. After a short delay, the man appearing running and panting.

"Sorry boss I was-"

"SEAN!"

The whole building turned their heads in order to see who had made such a piercing shout, whilst Jack tried to figure out how many people would now know his real name. The figure that came barreling past almost slammed into Mark, but he had the sense to move. 

"Marzia, I'm fine. Didn't Ken say it was just a graze? I-"

"That's exactly what you said last time Jack." She said, before heading towards the group. 

Now that she was still, Mark remembered meeting her a few times before everything had gone to hell, but her connection to the group escaped his memory. She was pretty, but Mark knew better than to take her at face value. There was most likely a fiery personality behind her soft face.

"God, you're such an idiot sometimes! If I'd have lost you right after Felix..." She said, leaning in to talk sternly to Jack in a whisper that slid past her clenched teeth. 

"Sorry ma!" Jack said and tried to move his arm to wrap it around her shoulder to comfort her but only ended up hissing in pain as he stretched his side.

"I don't need your sympathy, Jack! Come on I've got to clean you up," she said before grabbing his arm on the uninjured side and dragging him off towards one of the offices.

"Lemme go! You don't have ta drag m- you're holding me too tight dammit! Ken, look after Mark!" Jack managed to say before being thrown into Marzia's workroom. Mark felt like he was about to get very awkward.

 

"Guessing I should take you to Jack's office seeing as no one would bother you there," Ken said before holding his arm out to show Mark the way. 

"Suppose," he mumbled, following Ken. Mark was led across the hall where he was stared at like a prisoner. Maybe he was one. Eventually, the pair made it to the stairs that led to a landing where 3 doors were. Mark was escorted into the furthest one and Ken told him to sit before shutting the door behind him. Ken and Mark had been acquaintances before the separation and had even worked together on a few jobs but they had never been close. Maybe that was why Mark felt so insecure and uncomfortable there. 

"I'm guessing you would like to know what Jack's been up to whilst you've been gone because if I know Jack at all, he sure as hell isn't going to tell you,"

"Why wouldn't he tell me? I trust him,"

"Did he tell you that he was hurt just now?"

After a short pause, "No,"

"Do you still trust him?"

"Y-Yes. But why wouldn't he tell me what happened?"

\--   
_Days._

_It started as days._

_The days stretched into a week._

_The thought of leaving the house after a week became daunting. The act of buying groceries became nearly impossible. He started feeling eyes on him while he waited in line to buy his week worth of mac and cheese. He stopped walking home, instead taking the bus. The shadows in the alleys began to follow him so he stopped going out in the afternoon. He heard whispers plotting his demise so he stopped talking. Hours would fly by as he sat, bundled up in front of the news, listening to the most recent murders. Tapping on the windows sent him into a panic. The phone ringing made him flinch so he disconnected it. The lights felt like a spotlight putting him on display to be observed, so he began to live in darkness._

_His body grew thinner as he stopped eating, realising the ones who wanted him dead would poison him._

_His eyes grew glazed and cloudy as he saw shadows stalking him every time he turned his head._

_Once he swore he saw the familiar black hair in his peripheral vision._

_Cuddled against him for hours before waking up with a pillow in his arms._  
\--

"Probably because he doesn't want you to treat him like a fragile prize anymore. He's a grown man who can accomplish all of this," Ken spread out his arms, "without you," he said his arms dropping.

"Tell me what happened,"

"I will. I think you deserve to know what you did to him anyway,"

"What I did to him?" Mark repeated.

"You really don't have any idea, do you?"

\--  
 _A month._

_It was a month without a single phone call._

_Without any type of communication._

_It was Felix who called him, frantic with worry. It was Ken who picked up, thinking he would finally hear the familiar Irish accent._

_“Ken! Have you spoken to Jack at all in the past month? He’s not returning my calls and no one else has seen him!”_

_“I was going to call you! I figured he was still sad because of Mark and I wanted to give him some space but he usually calls at least once every 2 weeks!”_

_“He kept saying he thought people were following him. Maybe something happened?”_

_“I don’t know...Jack can handle himself. Mark taught him how to shoot a gun.”_

_“Yeah, but has he ever shot a person?”_

_“...I’ll meet you there in an hour. Bring some food. He mentioned he stopped going shopping.”_

_“Alright.”_  
\--

________________________________________________________

"Seàn, this is even worse than last time! I thought you were wearing your Kevlar?" Marzia said, dressing the wound heavily.

"A window smashed and we had to cover it up so, we improvised?" Jack said, realising how stupid their plan had been.

"Great idea. You're an idiot, you know that don't you?" Marzia laughed.

"Yeah, yeah of course." 

As Marzia finally finished cleaning him up, Jack stood up and stretched, his back arching and arms extending.

"Right, now it's time to find Mark," Jack said, walking to the doorway and stopping to wave bye to Marzia and he started to trot up to his office. Rubbing his hands together, Jack was practically jumping at the thought of him and Mark finally being together again. After the roughest year of his life, he was ready to relax for a bit. He opened the door to see Mark sat in his chair all alone.

\--  
 _He hadn’t moved in hours. The shadows danced across the walls but he didn't dare move, lest they glide over and smother him. He was wrapped in a bundle of blankets, eyes unfocused, staring at the wall, breathing lightly. If he feigned sleep, the man he saw watching him would leave. Sometimes Mark would show up, appear like magic and pull him gently from his spot on the sofa, almost as if possessed. Their hands would move together, forcing him to make something...anything to eat._

_“Jack.”_

_His lips lifted upward as he saw Mark standing above him, smiling._

_“C’mon you big baby, do I really have to take care of you forever?”_

_He opened his mouth, his voice rough and dry. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”_

_Suddenly, Mark perked up, grabbing the prone form by the arms. He pulled him towards the bedroom. Jack gave no fight. He was used to this._

_“The man is here, he’s watching you. I have to leave, you need to stay here."_

_"Alright."_

_"Grab the gun. If I don't come back, you need to shoot yourself. He can't get you."_

_He moved, opening the bedside table almost robotically. He blankly picked up the gun and checked the ammo, holding it close to his chest._

_"Good. It's okay if you're weak, imagine I'm here, pulling the trigger."_

_He smiled, nodding. "You were always stronger than me."_  
\--

His figure was hunched and his hands were coursing through his thick mop of red hair which Jack liked to think represented the fire that he knew Mark withheld. However, Mark was frighteningly quiet. Jack had virtually bounded into the office and Mark had not moved an inch apart from his fingers tangling his hair. 

"Mark?"

Hearing his name and the obvious confusion in it, Mark's hands made their way to his forehead where he tried to rub the frustration out, failing miserably. Jack was getting more and more worried by the second. What could possibly be the cause for Mark's behaviour like this?

"Mark, what's wrong?"

\--  
 _Ken frowned when his knock was met with silence and tried the doorknob, hearing the clacking noise of the lock catching on the wall. He dug around in his pocket, pulling out his lock-pick kit._

_“Do you always carry a lock pick around?” Felix asked, shifting around the bag of food._

_“I figured Jack wouldn’t answer. I brought it for this.”_

_Ken kneeled down and squinted, shoving the lock-pick into the keyhole and jiggling with it for a few seconds. He pushed the lock to shift it back into the door and smiled, satisfied with his work. He pushed the door open, knocking against it as the door caught on a second lock, a chain. He growled and backed up, forcefully slamming into it, breaking the lock and part of the door._

_“Real subtle.”_

_“Shut the fuck up, Felix.”_  
\--

Knowing he couldn't leave Jack in the dark, he took a deep breath and said, "I had a chat with one of your colleagues,"

Hesitant to answer, Jack cocked his head slightly. "So?"

"Jack, I know everything. And I mean everything,"

Jack's face went white. Mark couldn't possibly mean that, right? Who would have told him such a thing that Jack personally promised never to even think of again. The thoughts irritated Jack like flies, buzzing around his head and that insistent noise never shutting up.

"Jack, I know everything. And I mean everything,"

"Shit," He muttered to himself, turning his back on Mark. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,"

From behind him, Jack heard Mark stand up. "Jack, why didn't you come to me?", Mark slowly moved towards Jack, subtly placing his hand on his shoulder as a way of to calm the definite storm that was coming. "I could have helped you, talked to you, anything you needed I-"

"NO!”

\--  
 _He heard the man break open the door. Could feel his cold breath from where he was. The man called to him._

_“Get the fuck up! I’m finally here and you won't face me? Mark was right! You are a coward!”_

_‘Mark is right. Mark is always right.’ He thought._

_“Jack.”_

_Although the door hadn’t opened, he felt Mark next to him, as if by magic. His hand holding the gun was brought up to his temple and he simply blinked, his eyebrow raised in suspicion._

_“But you’re here. Can’t you kill him?”_

_“Even then, you’ll always be in danger. Do you know how inconvenient that is? This way, no one can kill you, you’ll already be dead.”_

_Jack nodded, feeling dazed, and his thoughts clouded. But he didn’t question, Mark knew best. He was stronger._

_“You’re right, Mark.”_

_The voice whispered in his ear, and he felt the cold metal against his temple. The chamber clicked as the bullet moved into position._

_“Of course I am.”_  
\--

“No, Mark, it was never that easy. You left me because I was weak, I couldn't look after myself and you didn't want me to get hurt. I was your fragile little play thing. Don't you see? If I came back to you I would still be that weak toy that you used. I would have no chance of proving myself. So, I had a few bad days-"

"Bad days?! Jack, what happened was not a bad day!"

"What are you going to do about it, huh? It's happened, it's over, I'm not like that anymore so it doesn't matter!" Jack screamed.

\--  
 _Ken moved throughout the house, hearing a whisper coming from the bedroom. He glanced back, seeing Felix drop the bag of ‘groceries’ on the kitchen counter. He noticed there were objects strewn across the floor, and dents in the walls. There was a pile of plates in the sink, and it was dark in the house, every light turned off. He checked the living room, noticing mugs covering the floor._

_"I'm gonna check the bedroom."_

_"You do that."_

_Ken drew his gun, swiftly slinking down the hall to the bedroom._

_"...Can't you kill him?"_

_Ken froze. The voice definitely sounded irish, distinctly hard on the 'a'._

_He stepped near the closet, reaching out a hand to the knob._

_"You're right, Mark."_

_Ken heard the unmistakable sound of a bullet chamber clicking into place. His eyes widened and he threw open the closet door, finding Jack sitting cross-legged, alone, on the floor with a gun pressed against his head._

_"Jack!" His hand shot out and grabbed the gun from Jack's hand, throwing it across the room._

_Jack looked up, and Ken almost stumbled back. His eyes were unfocused and wild, open so big they looked ready to pop out of his head. It took a split second before Jack zeroed in on the gun hanging loosely by Ken's side, and his eyes filled with fury. He catapulted out of the closet, tackling Ken to the ground. He pulled back his fist and Ken was struck, the metallic taste of blood hinting on his lips. There were a few moments where Ken was simply in shock, as Jack pounded away. Finally, Ken pushed Jack off him, but it didn't sway the smaller man._

_“Ken!” The shout came from the front of the house, and Jack whirled towards the voice._

_“Jack! Look at me! What’s happening?”_

_Jack turned, snarling at Ken before launching himself at him again. Ken jumped to the side, feeling Jack wrap his hands around Ken’s ankles. He was dragged closer, where Jack picked up the gun and aimed it towards Ken’s head. Ken pulled his other leg up and kicked the gun from Jack’s hand, bending his legs to shove the Irishman backwards. Jack stumbled, holding his head in his hands. He stared at the ground for a moment and looked up at Ken, eyes clear for only a second._

_“Jack, buddy? You alright?”_

_Jack simply stared at him before his eyes glazed and unfocused again. Ken pulled out his phone quickly, fingers already dialling Mark._

_“Shoot him, Mark!”_

_Ken stopped dialling, he looked up to see Jack staring at someone behind Ken. Glancing behind him, he saw no one, and that was when realization dawned on him. He cancelled his call and shoved his phone in his pocket, slowly out stretching his hands in a non-threatening gesture._

_“Jack?” Glazed over eyes shifted to meet Ken’s._

_“Jack, I'm not going to hurt you.”_

_Jack stared at him for a moment before his gaze quickly was pulled back to the space behind Ken, as though someone was speaking to him. Slowly, horror spread over his face. He fell backwards and lengthened the space between him and Ken._

_“Ken?” It was Felix. He had been standing in the doorway, for who knows how long._

_“Let me get this, Felix.”_

_Ken moved slowly over to Jack, lowering himself._

_“Jack? Hey buddy.” He spoke softly, carefully making sure to watch for any more outbursts._

_Jack was flattened up against the wall, eyes lowered and flicking from left to right. He pulled his legs in, curling up._

_“Jack, it’s me. It’s Ken.”_

_Jack’s breathing slowed._

_“M-mark?”_

_“No. It’s Ken. Remember?”_

_“Ken…?”_

_“Yeah. We came to check on you. It’s been a month since we’ve heard from you. We got worried. Felix is here too.”_

_Ken finally got close enough to gently place a hand on Jack’s shoulder. He made circular motions, slowing his breathing as an example for Jack._

_“Felix.”_

_“Yeah, buddy.” Felix stepped into the room slightly, holding back for a moment._

_Jack looked into the doorway, eyes clearing slightly. He looked over to Ken, before noticing the gun on the floor just behind him._

_“Oh god.”_

_“No Jack, it’s okay. It's okay.” Ken moved closer, wrapping his arms around Jack’s shoulders as the smaller man began to shake._

_“I nearly… I almost fucking shot you.” His voice cracked._

_Felix slowly made his way over, kneeling down to cover Jack’s other side after giving Ken a worried look. The pair had no idea their friend would be in such bad shape. They should have come sooner._

_“I almost shot you, Ken.”_

_“I know. I know.”_

_Tears began to fall and Jack ducked his head down, grasping at his friends as though they would fade away, just like Mark._

_“God, I’m so fucking weak.”_

_“It’s okay Jack, we’ll make you strong.”_  
\--

Finally turning around, Jack pushed Mark away from him, not showing any amount of love to the man. In fact, exactly the opposite.

"Who fucking told you? Hm?" Jack said, jabbing at Mark's chest.

"And if I tell you? What are you going to do them? What are you going to say?"

"None of your fucking business," Jack said, turning away from the man once more. Jack desperately tried to think about who would have told Mark such personal secrets.

"Ken. He was with you when I left, he told you didn't he? Didn't he!" In a fit of rage, Jack shot out of the door and hurried down the stairs.

"Morrison! You bastard, where are you?" Jack said under his breath until the vile man was spotted talking to Nurse Marzia.

Jack lunged for the man's shirt collar and dragged him towards the nearest wall, before pulling a knife out of his jacket and pinning the man against the wall by the back of his shirt.

"Jack, what the fuck?! Calm down man!"

"You fucker you told Mark didn't you! You just had to, bet that you couldn't wait. I trusted you and this is how you repay me? I despise you, Morrison."

“I had to tell him, lord knows you wouldn’t have!”

“He didn’t need to fucking know that!”

“You think you can just forget that, like it didn’t even fucking happen? Like if you imagine hard enough, it’ll go away?! It won't!”

"I should kill you right now, teach you a lesson you won't forget," Jack spat.

"Jack what are you doing? Calm down, please! No more deaths, I can't take it! Think of Mary!" Marzia shouted, eyes wide at the scene unfolding in front of her.

Jack could feel the rage boiling inside him. What Ken had told Mark could easily jeopardise his chances with the American. He felt betrayed that Ken would reveal something so personal, something so important. Jack regretted the weeks after the incident. The hallucinations had kept coming, and everything he had done was wrong, so wrong. The guilt was still always there, always stirring. He could practically feel it turning in his stomach constantly. The fire inside him was uncontrollable and he had no idea what to do. He needed to get rid of Ken, but how? Death was always the easiest answer but after what Marzia had said he wasn't so sure. Mary was pregnant with twins for god's sake. Yet expelling Ken from the group didn't exactly solve things, he would just be a loose end needing to be erased and he would come back to cause problems for sure. He had to make a decision. Either kill Ken now and get rid of a problem but leave a wife to grieve and have children grow up without a father, or leave him be to only cause more complicated problems later. He was stuck.

Jack took out the knife that held Ken in place and replaced it at his neck. He heard Marzia sigh his name in disappointment but just when he was about to make the final fatal stroke there was an interruption.

"Boss! We've got incoming." Minx shouted. Jack did not break his gaze at his victim in front of him. 

"How many and who?" He asked.

"Looks like about 10 men from an unknown source. I don't recognise their uniforms..." Minx said, confused. 

"Uniforms? What fuckers use uniforms?" Jack asked, finally tearing his deadly stare with Ken.

Suddenly, Mark came rushing down the stairs where he had been listening silently, eager to see what Jack would do in this situation. Jack had not even realised he had been stood there, judging his every move. Slowly, he backed away from Ken, ready to let him go. His instincts screamed to kill the man, someone he thought he could trust. It seemed he really had no one left he could trust unless Mark really did want to get back together but with his current behaviour he was sure Mark wouldn't. He looked towards Minx to see Mark peering over her shoulder, studying the men and their uniforms.

"They aren't cops but I've seen them before. We've had trouble with them coming whenever we come back from a job. They seem to come for the loot really, so we just take it and leave hoping they have left by the time we get back," Mark explained.

"There's too many of us to just pick up and leave. There's, what - 100 of us? How are we all going to leave without them noticing?" Jack said.

"We can't," Minx said.

"So we scope them out. Get Wade and Daithi up through the windows and snipe some of them. When that's done, we ambush them. Boom, gone forever," Jack said.

"You think we didn't try that? It looks like an easy kill but they - they aren't. They're tricky shits and they should just be left alone. Trust me," Mark said.

"Well, what the hell do you want us to do?" Jack said, slightly irritated.

"Like I said, leave. At least hide, just get out of their way. Make it so they can just enter and leave. This way, we'll have zero deaths," Mark described.

Sighing, Jack agreed. Since the base was a barn and Jack had been extremely cautious, Jack had made sure to make a fake back wall, allowing a secret room behind it but anyone that wasn't it in couldn't see there was a room. However, the space was no way near enough to fit that many people in so Jack decided to let a few people up and hide in his office.   
The people allowed into Jack's office were Mark, Minx, Wade, Marzia and Ken because Jack decided he needed to keep an eye on the untrustworthy man. Jack and Mark managed to fit in the office's small wardrobe that Jack had never used whilst Wade and Marzia hid under the desk and positioned the chair so that their figures were hidden from view. Ken somehow fit behind the curtain without making it bulge or look ridiculously obvious. 

The group stayed in their positions for about an hour. Mark soon developed some terrible cramp in his legs due to the small space he shared with Jack who no longer seemed to be the small man he once knew. It was another 30 minutes before he managed to signal to Jack that the coast should be all clear by now. The pair burst out of the wardrobe and instantly fell to the floor, Mark landing on top of Jack. The dramatic entrance (or tumble) had erupted laughs from their friends who were slowly emerging from their hiding places. 

"I knew you were romantic Jack, but that just takes the cake," Ken said, laughing still. Hearing that, Jack instantly pushed Mark off him harshly. Ken still put him on edge, the fact that you could muster that amount of trust in a person for them to just spout off your secrets to someone else. Brushing himself off, Jack stood up and gave Mark a hand to help him up as well, who was still slightly flustered from their previous position. With the blush slowly fading from his cheeks, Mark told the others that he and Jack would scope out if the place was free of the invaders and then would report back if the coast was clear. They nodded and the pair left.

Both Jack and Mark crouched down at the thought of the imposters. They reached the top of the stairs before Mark put a hand on Jack's shoulder to stop him from descending.

"Hey, be careful, yeah?" Mark said.

"Of course. You too," Jack mumbled.

As the pair made their way down the stairs, they both started to think.

What were they going to find?


	4. Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fighting time!

The men crouched and began making their way softly down the metal stairs, hands hovering over their weapons. They hadn't prepared very well; the entire weapon cache was on the ground floor so they only had one pistol with 5 bullets and two knives. Mark took the gun and a knife since Jack assured him he could do just fine with a knife. As they crept behind a supply crate, the two kept themselves silent. The only sound that could be heard inside, was the wispy sound of a breath being taken. Each moment that passed seemed to thicken the tension that permeated throughout the barn. The pin drop quiet of the barn angered Mark, he'd rather have a guns blazing fight than this insanity causing silence. Mark jittered, shifting so he hopped slightly between the balls of his feet. His miniscule movement was cut short when a hand lightly swatted his forearm. Mark froze, to see Jack still looking around for remaining intruders, but with his hand firmly grabbing Mark's arm.

 

"Shop fuckin moving." The whisper was almost too quiet to hear.

 

Jack seemed to have more patience than what Mark had remembered. Probably because that patience had saved Jack more times than he would admit. Jack turned around to look at Mark, who raised his eyebrows in question.

 

_Is is safe?_

 

The whole floor was silent but anyone could stay quiet if they were trained or needed to. Reluctantly, Jack nodded to Mark in confirmation. Carefully, Mark peeked his head out from behind the crate and took a step forward before feeling a hand grip his jacket from behind and drag him back. Confused, he looked back to find Jack crouched and a finger to his lips. 

 

_Shit_

 

Mark thought. 

 

"What was that?" They heard, the voice sickly sweet.

 

The two held their breath, hearing the shuffling of shoes by the entrance.

 

"I think someone's still here...go get 'em!"

 

In an instant, Mark and Jack looked at each other. This wasn't good at all. Instincts kicking in, Jack started to move away from Mark, eager to find a position where he had the advantage over the intruders. Mark however, left Jack to it and stayed in place so that there would be no risk of him revealing their position again. 

Finding another crate on the opposite side of room, adjacent to Mark, Jack felt confident. Seeing a soldier walking near to him he tensed, his weight in the balls of his feet. Taking a deep breath, Jack moved swiftly to wrap his hand around the man's mouth, yanking him towards him. Pulling the sturdy body close to his chest, Jack pressed his blade against his throat, feeling a gulp shift the knife's blade. The man squirmed in Jack's arms for a moment before Jack quickly slid the knife over the thin skin of the man's neck. As Jack breathed, he felt the familiar feeling of trickling blood slide down his fingers and lowered the body to the ground silently. Jack dragged the body behind him and grabbed the abandoned gun to check for ammunition.There wasn't much, only 10 bullets, but Jack could make it last and made a mental note to conserve them. Looking up, he saw that Mark was crouching as much as possible and that he had predicted a soldier coming his way. Sure enough, the soldier headed straight for Mark. Jack watched as Mark stood slightly and levelled his gun with the soldier's head. Before the man could turn and react, the trigger was pulled and there was a deafening gunshot. The man's body jerked back and crumpled to the ground, blood pooling around his head onto the floor. That was one bullet gone for Mark and a confirmation for the enemy that there were indeed people in the building. It was a lose lose situation.

 

Sighing, Jack watched as all the soldiers began to flock towards Mark's area, seeming as his gunshot had echoed throughout the whole building. Jack also knew that he wouldn't be able to take on that many men at once and neither could Mark. For once there was harm in trying. As Mark scowled as a soldier turned his corner, Jack noticed another soldier creeping up behind Mark. Jack immediately growled and aimed his gun, releasing a bullet into the man's skull. 

 

9

 

The soldier thumped to the ground and Jack quickly turned to check his own back. Snapping forward to catch sight of Mark, Jack watched as Mark shot his foot out to kick a soldier in the groin, sending the man sprawling to the ground temporarily. Quickly whirling around, Mark emptied a bullet into a different soldier that was behind him. Jack noticed the man on the ground slowly recovering and standing back up, but Jack didn't let it get further. He sent another bullet into the man who was halfway into a standing position. 

 

8 

 

Two soldiers began making their way towards Jack's hiding spot, and they sent a barrage of bullets towards him. Jack quickly ducked behind the supply crate, and when he heard the clicking noise of another magazine being loaded into their guns, Jack jumped out and shot two precise bullets into their heads. 

 

7

 

6

 

Jack breathed, hearing another gunshot coming from where Mark was and his head snapped up to see Mark smirking. There was a body lying 6 feet from him. Glancing up, Jack spotted another soldier behind Mark and immediately shot him, smirking back at Mark. 

 

5

 

There was a group of soldiers that began shooting their crates and Jack leapt behind the box again, before popping out and downing a portion of them.

 

4

 

3

 

2

 

Jack looked back at Mark with wide eyes as he was being held down by a soldier. Jack levelled his gun and let out a bullet, leaving the man to slump onto Mark. 

 

1 

 

Shit, he thought. Now he was back to a knife. There were barely any intruders left compared to the beginning but Mark and Jack were still outnumbered. Taking his eyes off Mark for a moment, Jack peeked out from the crate to see if the coast was clear. Noticing no one heading towards him, he began to make his way towards Mark. Jack scowled at the sight of another soldier Mark couldn't see as he was being beaten up another one. Jack knew he couldn't get there in time, and in desperation glanced at his knife once more. Raising the knife above his head, he threw it, aiming for the soldier's head. 

Dropping slightly, it hit him in the chest and he crumpled to the ground to Mark's shock who turned to face a deadly shot that Jack's knife had managed to stop. Mark turned to face Jack in order to thank him, a smile already ghosting his lips, only for him to be rugby tackled to the floor. The pair went sliding around the corner and Jack rolled his eyes, rushing once more towards Mark and turned the corner to see Mark holding the man in a headlock. Jack didn't hesitate to kick him in the face, his boot coming in contact with the man's skull, knocking him unconscious instantly. Mark flopped onto the floor, relaxing and trying to control the adrenaline running through his veins. Jack stood above him, panting and offered his hand to help Mark up. He took it gladly and used his momentum to pull Jack into an embrace. Mark wrapped his arms tightly around Jack's still-smaller-than-him-frame, a feeling Jack had missed. A smile graced both of their faces.


End file.
